Chapter IV: Here We All Are Crazy
Guards' quarters…guards' quarters…I should have asked for more directions…
The Mines of the gnome concentration camp seemed to have no end. No doors…no elevators…just deep tunnels.
He stopped.
The Card Guards aren't even in this area…there's no sign of activity here. It's just an empty shaft.
I must have taken a wrong turn.
Not surprising.
Well, we just go right back and try again. The sooner we get out of this madhouse, the better…who knows what's going on with Robin…
Batman had scarcely turned around when something swooped low over his head and let out a bloodcurdling scream. He ducked, but an ear from his cowl was lost. He dodged to the right as another…something came screaming at him from behind. He looked up.
A strange pair of creatures floated above him. They wore long, black, monk-like robes, out of the sleeves of which stuck two bony, gnarled, bloodstained arms with fingernails like claws. They had no neck, nor, it seemed, any legs, but directly above their shoulders floated a scarlet, fang-toothed skull.
One of the banshees hissed and spat the ear out of its mouth.
"BOO-jum! Boo-JUM!" they wailed, and swooped again.
With all the speed and reflexes of a cat, Batman sidestepped the beasts, and whipped out a bat-o-rang. He threw the blade at the chest area of one of the creatures…
…And it went right on through, as if nothing was there.
"Boo-JUM! BOO-jum!"
Time to run.
And run he did, the banshees snapping and shrieking behind him, reaching with their thin fingers for his neck…
"BOO-JUM! BOO-JUM! BOO-AIEEEEEGH!"
The scream emitted this time from the things was one of pain. Batman turned just in time to see a flash of gold, a splash of red, and a puff of ash.
The banshees had vanished. On the ground, directly below where they had once floated, sat a large, emaciated, gaunt cat. Its short fur was gray-brown and decorated with arcane designs and tattoos. On one ear it wore a silver hoop earring. Its eyes glowed yellow, and its silvery claws were covered in what looked like blood and soot. Its long tail whipped about behind it.
The cat's mouth was pulled up into an eerie smile, which revealed every one of its long, pointed, yellowing teeth.
Like the rabbit before it, the creature looked nothing like Tenniel's illustrations, but the identity of this new character was clear: The Cheshire Cat.
The cat said nothing for a while. It simply stared at Batman, licking the back of a paw to clean its claws of the black-and-red dust. It seemed to be studying him, like a scientist examining a particularly unpromising specimen.
"You should say 'thank you,'" the cat purred, in a voice like a silk ribbon with a husky quality.
Batman made no reply.
"Or not," sighed the Cheshire Cat. "Boojums have terrible manners as well: they'll eat ANYTHING. Please, call for me next time they're around, or become a meal. The claw, after all, is quicker than the utility belt."
Here the cat's eyes narrowed and it licked its lips. Its tongue was purple and thin.
"Come to think of it, I might join them…I've always enjoyed bats at breakfast…"
"I'm not edible."
"Oh, so you do talk! How dear!" Cheshire tauntingly cooed, and sidled up, rubbing himself against Batman's legs.
"So…you're Rabbit's savior, hm? Bruce, isn't it?"
The Dark Knight kicked the cat away slightly. The cat hissed, irritated by the action.
"How do you know my name? How does everything here know?"
"Now, now, let's not be difficult, Bruce: I can't really say. Answers aren't my style. That's where Rabbit comes in. Besides which, I think you REALLY mean to ask if Tetch knows or not. If so, please, say what you mean!"
"How…?"
"Questions, questions, too many questions! If you're such a good detective, then answer them yourself! While you're at it, why is a raven like a writing desk?"
No response.
"I see, Mr. Wayne, that you and I will be doing a great deal of talking. Well, we shall have to continue our chat later: I suspect you're trying to find the ingredients to the Gnome Elder's Getting-Small Potion?"
"…Yes."
"I'll bring you to the Guards' quarters; knowing where one is going if much more preferable to being lost, wouldn't you agree? Come along, Bruce. Rabbit waits!"
The cat began to walk away.
"Illusion or not, how do I know that I can I trust you?"
Cheshire smirked.
"That's the best part: you don't! But, when the path is problematical, one must consider a leap of faith. Follow me, Bruce."